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Mar. 27th, 2010

dr, stone

M23 or is it M21?

Let's wrap this up nicely.

An eventful weekend, not only for myself, but this event was more than I'd hope for. As I asked about the goings on, I was told about the replacement.

"Remember how I said that there was this..." Well I remembered, but something didn't quite seem right, for just some days earlier I was Friday's event.

No matter, the truth is that the little sacrifice was about to be just that, until the universe stepped in and much like scooby doo and the gang, spoiled my plans.

Yet I wonder why? What happened, as I am one not used to replacements.

Two songs later and all should be gone. Strangely, it's not.

Mar. 6th, 2010

dr, stone

To the cottage we go

A bit static, as I've not been there in over two months, and the decision was made in the blink of an eye, but there is some uncertainty as to the wrestlessness.

Deep in the woods, beyond all of the green which most would dare explore, there is a small cottage full of treats. I've ventured to go that far, and those treats, although generously given, come at a small price. The place was an escape, magic and wonderful, but it is slowly transforming into something typical. And, to create that magic once more, there needs to be sacrifice, but sacrifice to who, and by who?

What do we have here? a maiden! She will do just fine.

Feb. 23rd, 2010

dr, stone

Mambo peculiar

What does one do when the realization comes forth slowly, as that first steep climb of a roller coaster, that your doubts might be more than a single dark cloud? What you do is prepare yourself for the steep fall.


Feb. 22nd, 2010

dr, stone

Body snatching saved for another day

As it turns out, the universe is in no mood for an invasion, not any time soon.

"What if they come, what shall we do then?"

"We must see to it that they do not break through our enforcements."

The news arrive with a yell, and some non belief on my part. I Still wonder if the alarm was sounded falsely, or if it was just removed due to overwhelming noise.

"What if they are not gone at all?"

"Then I guess there is nothing else to do but with live them, learn, find our place."

The world is full of chaos, a strange place, random, built on chance and probability.

So crazy...

So small.
dr, stone

Body Snatchers

Cold, weak, a heart which nervously awaits those soothing words. I would imagine that at this point, at my age, the Body Snatchers would of made their first appearance at least once. They have, this past Thursday.

I received a call, panicked, frantic and confused. "They are here. I think they are here."

"what do you mean, how do you know it's them?"

We searched the internet then, signs of the invasion....

Sunday morning and nothing has been confirmed. It will be a waiting game. I would prefer to know now, we could take action now, or at least have a plan. It's not all up to me, and so I must wait.

Jan. 17th, 2010

dr, stone

Coke at 5 am

Revitalized by an apple pie, I'm thinking, thinking and thinking, but the effort is yes, fruitless?

Dogs bark outside of my window, one of those old fashioned and classic barks: "bau waw waw." The

Things never posted fom the past.
another Dream?

Always with her, there is an ocean, a beach, but mostly an amuxement park. One night, the park was elluminated by tourches, the rest of the time it has been daytime. there is a cage, a secret ride, us, in the park, and even stranger, my mother watches us as if we were children.

Next thought....

I've met another with that thing which draws me near, we shall see how close near is.

Next thought.

Time to take form.

Next Thought....

I want to play as well!!!

Dec. 15th, 2009

dr, stone


How long has it been since I have been in that white VW buggy, white, noisy and dependable?

Someone's s house in Bonao is the destination, a town in Dominican republic, the person's home I remember from my childhood, an imagined place, one of my dreams, with greens, rivers, and a very steep hill which we would always climb in a car.

"Can the buggy make it up the hill?" I am a young boy and I ride shotgun. My father drives. My brother looks like he is in as if he hasn't passed to the first grade yet.

"of course it can." these are the words of my father. He says them as I see us pass our turn, that very steep hill.

We drive and I don't mention what I've noticed.

Of course, we come to a bridge, water below, and the wreckless driving begins.

Now I speak up. "We passed the hill,"

"nah, we couldn't have." My father starts to look around.

He begins to turn the car around, only going halfway before putting up his hands at the back of his head and taking a relaxed pose.

The water! this is what I'm thinking, I'm always thinking about the water!

I take the weel, but my driving is just no good.

My younger brother reaches over for an attempt, again it fails.

We plunge into the river, the current begins to push us down stream.

Still posed for a very relaxed vacation photo, is my father in the driver's seat. I drag my mother out, my brother, and my father.

We all feel heavy and I think of the river bank, where is it?

The alarm goes off and I wake, tense, and needing a couple of minutes to relax.

Dec. 4th, 2009

dr, stone

Dateline? Here I come!

Up to no good, and not by my own knowing, at least on that particular day.

"If you get some ice, I'll make some daiquiris." The promise of a lifetime, liquor and artificial strawberries in an even more chemically formulated red syrup.

Time passed and the ladies arrived, none for me of course, I no bachelor by her standards or mine, three ladies, and they said hello.

"so, are you going to make thos daiquiris?"

Sure I would. And as I performed the barkeep duties, that unavoidable question, which every propper liquor serving establishment should ask, was indeed asked.

"Um, ehh, so, how old are you?"

She looked a bit young, but I suspected nothing. Two nights before, she had been here doing god knows what.

I'm excused from all of that, I was away on holyday.

Glances, confused faces and noses wrinkling, the three ladies looked about each other for a colaborative and convincing answer. By luck, the topic was changed.

Then another question was asked. I forgot,where did you say you went to school again, you take classes at night, right?"

Ah, and there we had it, the answer, a high school!

Fear not, only one of the ladies was barely illegal.

Nov. 8th, 2009

dr, stone

(no subject)

"A couple of Arab guys ran into an army base and shot it up! You didn't hear about it?" This was the story, this was the line which would of created a flood of rage within which would lead to rants on internet boards, and conversations on the best way to deal with "them," had I been the type not to take five minutes and look up the story myself.

Army psychiatrist shoots up and army base.

Basically, this is the story.

What a difference just a bit of research can make.

Sep. 6th, 2009

dr, stone


Cleaning, for some a task, for others a something to be avoided. For me, a symbol, a reflection of my inner being. A cluttered house for me is a cluttered mind.

A clear plastic container sits on the floor at the entrance to the apartment. Inside the transparent box are a bag of rice, and a bag filled with other bags. This container has been sitting out there for more than a week.

Everyone passes by, almost trips on the plastic container and continues on their way. Tonight the container went into the pantry, where it belongs.

There is room to breathe.


There is that story about the man who in a moment of masturbatory inspiration shoved his cock into the vacuum cleaner. The plan was working well, until the excitement proved to be a bit too much, or perhaps it was the suction, and the man ended up placing a call to the local police.

“Hello! Yes, there has been an attempted murder; someone has tried to kill me!”

Certainly this call would explain the missing penis to the police.

In haste, the would be murderer must of stashed the torn penis in the vacuum cleaner.

When I was a kid, there was another story I heard. A man in a small town in the Dominican Republic had mysteriously showed up at the local emergency room with stomach pains. They were terrible stomach pains and of course, a bad case of constipation.

There was a report on the vexing diagnosis: A light bulb in the ass.

With a professional demeanor, the reporter Nuris something or other looked right at the camera while interviewing the man.

He laid on his stomach, sad puppy eyes which demanded sorrow from the viewers. “I really don’t know how it happened; really, I just want this to be over, I am afraid for my life.”

Norris, the microphone now in her face without a wink, without a shard of acknowledgement to her public says: “A true mystery, how did this bulb end up in this man’s rectum? Some may say he might have done it to himself,” and here is what I will always remember her for, “some might even call it witch craft, Voo Dooo…”

And until a few years ago, it was a mystery to me as well.

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